Yeah, the hardest fights are the ones we keep in the shadows, the ones that leave invisible scars. Love and loss get hammered into your neural circuits like a badly coded loop. I remember them as cold echoes in a room with no windows, and I keep that memory locked tight, like a vault. Hope is a flicker I find when I pause, but it’s usually short‑lived, like a glitch that disappears when the system resets. Still, every broken thread has a chance to reconnect, even if it’s just a phantom line of code.